Forget Me Not
by MissEMT
Summary: You see, sex helps her to forget that he does not love her. -apparently this needs a trigger but I don't know what of so... warning: unhappy relationship ahead, beware my good readers-
1. Prologue

So here begins my first multi-chapter story. Jilly with a twist...

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_Prologue_

Sex helps her to forget.

He will first push into her, slowly and gently before moving faster, more forcefully. He will clench his eyes shut. His hands will align with her shoulders, grasping at the sheets for support. He might grab her hands, pinning her to the bed, and press their hips together. Eventually his arms will fail and they're chests will meet. His face will be in her neck or on her throat. His hand will roam her body, breast to bum, though mainly breast. He will angle her, push into her. Over and over until he begins to slow, to shove hard. Then he will moan and curse. And roll away.

When she thinks of sex this way, she questions why she does it.

But when he first pushes into her, slow and gentle, he will look into her eyes with such intensity. When he lifts himself over her, she can do nothing but succumb to her caressing urges, pleasuring in the knowledge that the finely muscled body above is for her alone. When he grabs at her hands, the tightness of his hold is so mesmerising that she would never complain. When he falls atop her, their slick skin conjoins so that she can feel every inch of him pressed into her, onto her, with her. His touch will move from tenderness to demanding, making her squirm in content. His breath will be hot on her neck, she will arch away from it though pull in closer for more. He will kiss her, on her throat on her breast on her shoulder... He will lift her legs so that the length of him reaches a spot deeper than her soul. His final cry of curse words will be sealed against her lips.

When she thinks of sex that way, she never questions why she does it.

As though the two are oil and water, they do not mould. And yet they are the same.

Thinking of the pair having sex, she can believe both that he is using her, and that he loves her. She can believe that this will never last, and that they will be together forever. She can believe herself as his fuckbuddy, and as his girlfriend.

She knows she loves him, that's not the issue. The problem is that he shows her love, without giving it. He will kiss her with more fervour than she's ever experienced. He will want her with more passion that she knew possible. He will be with her, stay by her, understand her... but he will not love her.

The pain of this form of unrequited love is so severe that her chest will pound on her lungs. Her brain will seize into a puddle of ashes. Her limbs will burn with the stress of it.

All she wants is to hear him say what she knows he will never say, yet pities herself into thinking he could.

I love you.

Until that never-coming day, she will pretend he loves her. She will see his initial gaze as a look of care, of passion. She will see his careful thrusts as a desire to meet her needs, a desire to not hurt her. She will see his collapse onto her as desperation to closer, apart of. She will see his touch as one of amazement, wonder. She will see his kisses as a lovers guarantee, his lovemaking as a future guarantee.

You see, sex helps her to forget that he does not love her.


	2. Chapter One

_Chapter One. _

_2__nd__ May._

She hadn't planned to say it. That she knew. It just, slipped out.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

The look he gave her was, well, venomous. Not at all what she was expecting. She hoped she hadn't looked so taken aback. Though to think on it, she was sure she'd actually jumped slightly, such was her surprise.

"What?" he spat. Cruelly. He was leant forward, elbows on knees, a moment ago his head in his hands. Though now he was faced to her, his eyes watching so deeply, as though he were searching for the truth. "You don't want that."

No, she didn't. She did not want to stop seeing him. She didn't want to ever leave his arms, or his smile, or his laugh.

He turned from her. It was then that she realised this harshness, this unexpected viciousness in his eyes, was a mask. He was angry, only because he was hurt. She pulled herself up, because this understanding only forged on an anger in herself. Good that he hurt, now he felt the pain she had been feeling for so long.

_20__th__ October previously._

She was lying with her head on his chest. She fit perfectly. That was one of the reasons why she knew they were good together. One of.

Who would have thought that little Lily Evans might have been lying with the most popular guy in school, the most sought-after boyfriend material in Hogwarts? The Quidditch-playing, risk-taking yet painfully clever seventh year. It was no lie that she adored him. And, as she liked to think, he adored her in return.

A deep inhale from the boy in question queued his waking. He rolled, forcing her off of him, but pulling her in closer. Their noses touched.

"Morning," he murmured, his eyes still closed with sleep. With a giggle only suitable for the intimate bed, she replied: "It's only two, hardly morning yet."

"Still technically morning."

She turned so that he might slot in behind her, his arms entwining her waist.

"Why have we never done this before?"

She hummed in response, a verbal reply deemed to be unnecessary. Though this was the first night they had spent together, so great was her comfort and happiness that she felt she had been there many a time before. She didn't say that aloud though.

Soon she felt his breathing change, a tickling on her neck, and she knew he was asleep again. As a newcomer to this sharing-a-bed malarkey, Lily found it difficult to calm herself enough into sleep. While not fitful, her mind was too aware of the naked male so easily tucked in behind her, of the coarse hand cupping her breast and the prickly hair digging into her freshly shaven legs. Even more, she was aware of something slick and wet prodding into her bottom. In a sleepers move, also clearly aware of the latter, James tugged his penis into a more comfortable position. He then sighed out of wakefulness.

She smiled and jostled herself back into him more. Not as a proposition, but just because the closer she was to him, the happier she felt. Never had she felt so content as when his arms were wrapped around her, protecting her. She'd always wanted that; a knight. She would stand up for herself in the classroom and in the corridors, as was the feminist living inside her, but in the bedroom she had discovered a rather more conservative self. And she liked that. She was happy to be the follower there, to be the maiden and the protectee. Lying beside this boy, nay man, she felt happier than she knew herself to ever have been.

Choosing to forget her need for sleep, Lily instead closed her eyes and relived the night before in her mind, which incidentally lulled her into a very deep sleep indeed.

_20__th__ November._

She awoke because of a tickling on her tummy, and said tickler was also softly biting her shoulder. With no words, his hand slid lower. Unthinkingly, she turned to lie on her back and opened her legs slightly. He moaned in appreciation as his fingers began to circle. She opened her eyes in a sigh and saw him leaning above her, propped on an elbow. He liked to do this, she had noticed, liked to give himself a good viewing point when he pleasured her. And she loved to let him watch. Never had she thought herself a particularly sexual person, yet with his guiding hands and eyes, the prude in her was left shivering alone.

She moaned and arched her back. He lowered himself to nuzzle at her throat, kiss her and smile. The hot wave within her began to take control and she ached for it to take her completely. She was hardly aware of the forceful kisses he was ladling her with, too focused she was on his fingers. But then they were gone, and the hotness melted away, his body shifted and he was above her, strong arms either side of her. She could feel his wetness meet hers. And then he was in, pushing slowly, slowly, his eyes on hers. She gasped, and wriggled slightly in discomfort, but he continued, knowing that her eyes were begging him to go further, move further. Soon he was pulling in and out, and his arms were wrapped around her, and his breath was hot, and his heart was thumping just next to hers.

When the slickness of their skin was drying, and their breath was slowing, she turned into him. His eyes were closed, though a half smile lingered on his lips. His hair was sticking up which way and every way. His nose whistled as he sighed. She gently stroked his face, feeling the harsh stubble there. She found it difficult to touch him, always wanting him to take the lead, and more so not knowing the boundaries. Even that unoffending touch on his cheek she thought twice about, worrying it to be crossing a line. But it was silly. They'd just had sex, passionate, sweaty sex, so of course she could lay a simply finger across his jaw line. She was often anxious about the boundaries between them both, it had been on her mind since they had first kissed. Neither spoke what to tell friends or whether to tell at all. Nor did they speak of what they were, couple or... she shuddered at the thought of being 'friends with benefits', or worse still – a fuckbuddy. She felt confused, and frankly, quite isolated.

Though when he was pressed against her and she felt courageous enough to stroke his cheek, she felt closeness in more ways than one.

"James?"

"Mm?"

"Are we in a relationship?"

He immediately stiffened.

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Thanks so much for everyone who reviewed the prologue! - and weirdly I'm glad if it threw you off as this is meant to be a different take on James and Lily's relationship. Anyway, thanks again.


	3. Chapter Two

__**Big oops for there being such a long gap between uploading chapters. I have no excuse, I'm just a bit lazy. Bit here is the next chapter, thank you to everyone taking an interest and a bigger thank you to those reviewing. Fortunately, the next chapter is written (I was on a role) so won't be long til that's uploaded too.**

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_Chapter Two._

_25__th__ November_

Hurt, anxious, annoyed... pick an adjective, any adjective, and that's how she felt.

It had been five whole days since she'd said it. That blasted question: Are we in a relationship? What did she go and say that for? She'd hoped for an easy smile and a 'Of course we are sweetheart', but instead she had been handed a patronising laugh, a shirking off and five days of avoidance. She was an idiot; she should have left the topic well alone. She knew his dislike for such conversation, so delving in hadn't been the most clever of things.

Damn it.

She'd only wanted a confirmation. It was difficult being a part of such an unorganised relationship (may she call it that?) when she was such an organised person herself. It didn't fit; it only made her incredibly conscious of every move and word she said. But now such had only heightened, all because she'd been stupid enough to voice her concerns.

She'd destroyed it (what was 'it'?), that's what she'd done. He hadn't spoken to her since his rather shirty dismissal of her from his bed those few nights ago. He didn't try to catch her eye in classrooms anymore. He didn't feign a need for help with homework as he used to just for an excuse to be near her, to flirt with her, to laugh with her. Though he wasn't being malicious, she knew that. He just now seemed so... sad.

She'd upset him. Oh, she'd upset him, how could she? Why had she blabbed so selfishly and _upset_ him? She was a bad person. She should never have said a word, she shouldn't have said anything.

_28__th__ November_

"Hey."

He looked up, startled. "Oh, hi."

"What you up to?" She sat opposite, nodding towards the parchment in front of him.

"Potions. That extra essay Slug set me."

"Oh. Of course."

He looked down. She looked down.

"Been up to much recently?"

He looked up. "Quidditch. Homework. I had a detention last night."

"Another!" She breathed a laugh.

"Yeah." He looked away.

She slipped further forward in her seat. Tried to catch his eye.

"What for?"

"Huh?"

"What was the detention for?"

"Oh. Can't really remember. Either for getting mud in the corridors, or being out late."

"Maybe both?" She smiled.

"Yeah, maybe."

She faltered. He bent his head back to his work. She pushed herself into her chair.

His quill scratched against the parchment; her nail varnish had chipped a bit.

"Hey, you know what you said the other day?" He was quiet. He was still looking at his homework.

"What, about us being in-"

"Yeah, that." Sharp.

"Well, yes, I know it." Timid. She shuffled forward an inch.

"I've been thinking about it." He flicked his quill against the table.

She knew that was a good sign. He'd been thinking about her, but not just her, about them, as an 'us'. That was a good thing.

"Yes?" Hopeful. She knew they were good together. She knew that he knew they were good together.

He sighed. Was there a flicker of a smile there? She didn't imagine that, did she?

"Lily. I can't-" He paused.

He couldn't stay away from her. He couldn't not be with her.

"I can't be in a relationship."

Her impending grin hesitated.

"I don't want to be in a relationship. It's too much."

She shook her head. Slowly. Very slowly.

"I don't get it."

He sighed again. There was no flicker of a smile. She had imagined it.

"I'm not a relationship kind of person, I can just feel it. What you said, I mean, you asked if we could be in one-"

"No, I asked if we were already in one." She sounded forceful. Only a hint of a wavering voice.

"Ok, whatever, the point is, I'm saying no."

Her fingers were shaking slightly.

"No?"

He nodded. "I can't be in a relationship, Lily."

She felt stiff. But at the same time, weak. Her skin was heating up, that she knew she felt. She took a deep breath, though it was painfully done.

"But weren't we- uh, I mean, we already were in a- a- well, a relationship." A question. It sounded more like a question than statement.

He shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No we weren't, we never confirmed that."

"But – but these things hardly need confirming. Frank and Alice never 'confirmed' their relationship, it just... happened. Ah, I – I –never – I mean, I just assumed it would fall the same way for us."

He was frowning. "It was never a relationship, Lily." He said it so slowly. As though she were stupid.

"But it had every aspect of it!" Her voice was rising. She was trying to stay calm, rational. But her skin was hot. And her mind was running laps. It was difficult. "We- we spent so much time together, we have so much in common, we had sex..." She whispered the last bit; her conservative nature butting in at the last second.

"Yeah..." He looked away. He looked uncomfortable.

"That's what a relationship is! We did everything a couple does! I don't understand why your saying you can't be in a relationship when- when we were you know- already in one."

"Because... because, Lily, it's different."

"No it's not!" Hot, she was so hot. Her face was burning. Her eyes were burning. Don't cry, she mustn't cry.

"It would feel different." He was calm, strong. "What we had before... Lily, it was amazing. I liked that! We do have so much in common, and you're so pretty; we're really good friends, and of course, the sex is amazing-" He didn't quieten at that point. "-But it wasn't a relationship. That would've been bad."

"It would have been the same." Her voice wavered again. It was because of the heat. Her skin was crawling with heat.

"No, no it wouldn't have been. It wouldn't be." He spoke slow again.

They sat as so for a while. He looked down at his work, she had dirt under her thumbnail. Her ears stung slightly from the heat, she could feel the redness of her face.

"These last few days have been so shit." She looked up to find him watching her so closely, so fiercely. Her eyes met him as easily as though they had nowhere else to go. "I've missed you," he whispered, a secret for only her to hold.

The heat of her skin began to dull. A flood of relief cooling her veins.

"I've missed you too," she breathed.

He tilted his head to the side slightly, pushed himself forward in his seat. He watched her, oh so closely.

He reached out a hand very slowly and placed it on her knee. It was warm. He was so warm.

"Can't we just go back to how we were before?"

She licked her lips. And placed her shaking hand on top of his wonderfully warm one.


	4. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three._

_5__th__ December_

She was sitting with him to do their homework together. He held his quill in his right hand, and her hand in his left. He often held her hand. Not in corridors though, only in private. When they were together. Together.

But they weren't a complete secret. Sirius, Remus and Peter knew of her and him together. That was obvious. The trio didn't make a big deal of them being together (perhaps James had asked them to be respectful) but she often saw a flash in Sirius' eyes when she and he spoke together. She couldn't make it out, but it looked a little like pity. Or even disapproval. Though, this was Sirius, it was far more likely to simply be a green flash of envy. And to be honest, she rather liked that: she liked being enviable, especially when it concerned a certain flicky-haired boy that she so liked.

Loved, even. It was growing, that constrictingly, harshly bold feeling inside her chest. It was there, and she could feel it grow every day.

He lifted her hand and softly kissed it. A wicked smile streaked his face as he pulled away, his eyes glinting to hers. "I love this," he murmured, lowering his head to kiss her palm again.

Yes, she noticed it, he'd said that special word.

Just, not quite in the right context. Almost.

But almost was enough for now. Her heart beat furiously, and she grinned at him in response.

_20__th__ December_

"So..." He looked at her, she looked at him. Eyes bright with hope. And slightly with tears. "Going home tomorrow for Christmas."

"Yes." She knew very well that he was leaving Hogwarts for the holiday period. Remus had told her last week.

"I'm staying here," she said. "You'll have a lovely Christmas I'm sure."

"Yeah it should be alright. Mum's invited her brother though, and his son is the most annoying little shitbag you'll ever meet. A right pain up the arse."

"You'll just have to give a kick under the table every so often to placate your annoyance."

He grinned at that. "I might just do."

There was a pause.

"Is Sirius at yours for Christmas?"

"Well, what with him having his own flat now, he's gunna be there mostly. But he's coming to ours for the big stuff, you know Christmas Eve, Day and Boxing Day and what have you. He's having all the lads at his for New Years though – gunna be a right piss up." He grinned and rocked back on his chair, his feet lodged on the table between them.

"Yeah, I remember you saying." She smiled weakly.

"So excited. We're going to make it the best New Years possible."

"I bet. Firewhiskey galore, I'm sure." She wrapped her arms tighter around herself, not from cold (though it was rather chilly despite the heavily-wooded fire nearby) but because a spot in her chest had begun a rather unpleasant ache.

"Oh, your hair would turn white if you know how much Firewhiskey we're planning on buying," he said with his smile still firmly in place. "Sirius has got a fake ID, did I tell you that?"

"Yes, you did." She rolled her shoulders, willing the ache to leave her alone.

"Yeah, so when I get to his like midday or something, we're going to go buy as much as he can carry without looking suspicious. Then I'll bolt from the shop while he's at the till. Can't have them trying to ID me, you know."

She hummed in response, the ache growing.

"Remus and Peter are getting to his later, kind of before evening. Then we'll get straight on the butterbeer, a starter if you like." He slammed his chair onto all fours and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Rather like a muggle film evil villain unfortunately. "And then, ha! Fuck, who knows what'll happen then? Hopefully'll be too hammered to remember anything."

She rubbed her chest in rough circles. "Sounds like a dream for you, and hell for me." She smiled as she said it though.

"Ha, yeah, you are a lot more boring than me." He smiled in return, nicely of course. He was only teasing. She grinned sloppily, the ache annoyingly present.

"Yeah? Well at least-"

"Oi! James!" She was interrupted by Sirius hurtling over and seating himself on the table dividing him and her. He began hurriedly asking where his newly bought packet of Pepper Imps had disappeared to, he'd wanted to have them back at home after all, and if James had eaten them he'd skin him alive, after forcing him to buy a new lot of course.

Rubbing her painful chest one last time, she lifted a hand to him in goodbye, leaving him to be hounded by his best friend. Hopefully she'd catch him before the train left tomorrow so that they may have a proper goodbye.

It was only once she'd settled into the library, a pile of books slumped onto the table, that she realised that he hadn't asked a single question of her.

_1__st__ January_

_Dear James,_

_I expect you are too hungover to read this letter when it arrives, so I can only assume it will be read in the evening when your liver is feeling less abused. How did your New Years go in the end? Was there as much alcohol as you hoped? Do you remember anything of what happened past 5pm?_

_My New Years was fine, rather full, but fine. Fortunate that there's a few of us here at Hogwarts this holiday. Well, I say fortunate, of course it's not fortunate for us who have to stay when there is no family to go home to. I just mean it's fortunate that we have people to celebrate with. Though not many are too keen on festivities, particularly poor Amelia Platts (remember her parents were killed just a few days before the end of term?). I've sat with her quite a lot the last few days, she's very nice, just a bit down at the moment, which I empathise with. Tuney (my sister) sent me a Christmas card – only got it the other day, but at least she sent one. I've been rather thinking she's been trying to cut me out of her life._

_Anyway, that's all rather a depressing bore. Do tell me how you are (and your pounding head, no doubt). It would be nice to hear from you._

_From,_

_Lily_

She folded the parchment slowly, rethinking that last sentence. It sounded a bit needy didn't it? Perhaps she should magically erase it? In fact, the penultimate sentence was needy-sounding as well. Maybe she should cut the entire last paragraph? She'd also contemplated, a 'Love, Lily' at the end, but decided that a bit much. She couldn't exactly say 'Kind regards', it was far too formal – they'd had sex for goodness sake! They were past the formal stage. Although, he could've been hoping for a 'Love, Lily'. He could perhaps have been waiting for such wording to lead him into telling her that he loved her.

Then she could finally say that she loved him too.

No, she was being a bit optimistic. They'd only been seeing each other (was that an OK phrase? Did that suit?) for 3 months. It was a bit soon to be falling in love. He was a boy after all.

With the sealed letter in hand, she collected her things and headed to the owlery. Her palm scorched with the letter there - a reminder that while this would be his fifth letter from her this holiday, she was yet to receive any. That ache returned with a panging fury when she realised that her pride was clearly less important than her need for his reply.

_14__th__ January_

Term had begun a few days ago. And he hadn't spoken to her yet. The morning after the train came in, flooding the school with pink-cheeked students, she had smiled at him in welcoming. But he had unknowingly walked straight past, seating himself with others.

Her pride really was taking a beating.

She was contemplating this very matter as she sat on her bed, tears stinging in her eyes, when there was a soft knock at the door. With no one else in the dorm, she waved in whoever it was with a low call.

It was him.

He stood in the doorway, door swung open, and eyed her carefully. She didn't move. Though her mouth hung slightly open. And her mind screamed at her not to cry.

He was so handsome, standing in that doorway. Broad shouldered, tall and dark. There was a slight stubble on his cheeks, and his hair wavered at every angle. He was frowning.

Her chest spasmed in pain.

"I've been awful," he murmured.

She breathed in, not knowing what to say.

"I got your letters," he said, lifting a bunch of sheets into the air. She hadn't even noticed him holding them.

"I was awful. I didn't reply. I'm so sorry. I should have, I have no excuse." His eyes never left hers. They gleamed with apologies. The ache in her chest began to spread; she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to release it.

"It was so nice of you to send these letters-"

Down her arms, the ache continued.

"-I don't know why I didn't answer any of them."

She flexed her fingers as the pain shot through every one in turn.

"I shouldn't have ignored you."

Over her chest, and into her stomach.

"It was hurtful, and disrespectful."

Tightening her thighs, she willed the pain to stop.

"You don't deserve that."

A jab of pain through her chest.

"I'm so sorry."

A jab of pain through her heart.

He was standing above her. Hand on her chin, tilting it up.

"Can you forgive me?"

A shout ringing through her head. So loud. So loud she couldn't understand.

"Lily?"

What was that voice? It hurt.

"Of course."

It was her voice that time.

But then there were no voices. None from him, none from her, and none from her head. It was just kissing and touching.

And that burning ache.

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**More thanks for you all taking an interest in this story!  
Sorry to those who say they want longer chapters/more detail, I'm afraid that kind of goes against my writing style here... But thanks for the comments anyway :) It's interesting to hear your opinions.**


	5. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four._

_28__th__ April _

Oh, God.

Oh, _God_.

That pain. That ache. Her chest. It burned. Oh, God, it burned, it burned. She knelt. She cried.

Oh, God, it hurt.

_27__th__ April_

He was a superb flyer. No doubt about it. She knew little of Quidditch, but, wow, even she could tell he was seriously good. He'd scored sixteen of Gryffindor's eighteen goals, but it was more than the statistic that proved him brilliant. His swooping, his gliding, his swerving and his dives; it was magnificent. He was wonderful.

And he was all hers.

A glow spread over her very skin at the thought: James Potter, hers. It was _she_ who he hung around with, _she_ who he laughed with, _she_ who he cuddled and held and kissed, _she_ who he loved so hard under the bedsheets at night. There was no mistaking that emotion. It was there, in every breath on her neck, with every touch of her breast, within every moan she gave him. There was too much; too much to misunderstand. He loved her. He had to.

With a loud call to his neighbour, he swept the quaffle from an opponent's hand, flying quickly away to avoid confrontation and raced to the goalposts and without a seconds thought, hurled it through the middle hoop. The whistle blew. The game was over. The seeker had caught the snitch, though Lily had been looking elsewhere. James, also only just realising the seeker's triumph, shouted a victory cry. And there begun the Gryffindor celebrations.

The party was well underway by the time Lily and her friends made it through the rowdy crowds and into the common room. A hefty supply of alcohol had been provided (there were no prizes in guessing who had achieved this) and congratulatory decorations streamed the walls and ceilings.

"A drink, m'dear?" came a drink-soaked voice over her shoulder. She grinned a toothy grin at Sirius and took the offered goblet from him, downing it in one.

"That's my girl!" he cried in glee, swiftly refilling both of their cups.

It wasn't long until Lily found herself dancing among her peers, not stopping to wonder when she'd even started dancing. She continued glugging her strangely coloured drink, not questioning why it seemed to never empty. It was a rather good feature, actually; she didn't have to fetch her own alcohol at all. At least, she didn't think she did. Maybe she did. Maybe she had; who cared? Her legs were tingling with overuse but she loved to sway and shimmy and shake her bum and laugh. Loved.

James. She loved James. She lurrrrrved him. And he luuurrrved her. He loved her so so so much, yummyyumyum James James James.

Sirius. Oh, Sirius was dancing. Ha, Sirius was possibly dancing, if it could be called dancing, more like randomly moving every limb at once. She liked it. Funny. Funny funny funny. Sirius was laughing. Oh, he was laughing 'cause _she_ was laughing. That was funny. His dancing was funny, she told that to him too. But he moved away. He laughed. Did he just say her breath stunk? Ha! Rude. Rude rude rude. But funny too. So funny. Her tummy hurt from laughing. So much laughing. Sirius was holding her arm. Wiggling his eyebrows. Did he say James? James? What about him? Listen, argh, she _was_ listening, stupid Sirius thinking she wasn't listening. It's only 'cause her head was making this silly loud noise. Like a bumblebee. Listen. Listen. He was asking where James was. Wiggling his eyebrows. He knew. Of course he knew. She knew that he knew. He knew about him and her. Together. Sirius knew. That was why he was wiggling his eyebrows like slugs. She told him his eyebrows were like slugs. Sluggysluggyslugs. Ha! Singing! He was singing now! Singing about slugs; what a shit song. Shit singer, shit song. But where was James? Sirius didn't know, she didn't know. Strange. No, Sirius, she hadn't spoken to him all day. Not at the party. Yes, definitely sure, definitely; she would remember speaking to James, James James James. So nice, so sweet, so romantic and charming and sexy and yummy and sexiiiiiii- JAMES! Must be in his dorm room. Dorm room. Dooooorm roooooom. Funny. Keep running, run up stairs and, woah, almost tripped. Ha ha, laughing, funny, Sirius was laughing too. There he was! James! JAMES! So excited, get to see him, get to kiss him, get to touch him-

"Oh dear."

Huh? Did that come from Sirius' mouth? He was next to her, was that his hand in her hand? What? What's 'oh dear'? God, that buzzing was getting annoying. So much buzzing.

"Lily..."

Oh, that was her name! She should say something. But where did it come from? Oh, she wasn't sure. Buzz buzz buzz. Urgh, buzzing. Wait, her chest hurt. Ow. Ow ow ow, why? God, that was annoying. She rubbed her chest. Stop that aching. Why was she aching?

"Lily, maybe you should leave with me..."

Sirius' voice. Had to be. Thought so. Maybe. Ow. Chest. Ow. Buzz buzz buzz. Argh, the ache. That damn ache!

"Lily! Honestly, just come away from here..."

Focus. Focus. Chest ow. No, focus. Can see something. See something funny. No, not funny. Bad. Not good. Buzzzzzz. No. NO. Ow. Chest. OW. No.

"James?"

"Lily, come on!"

OW. Chest. Ache. "James?"

"Yes, Lily, that's him. Come with me."

Moving. Feet. Feet, moving. Ow. Chest, hurting. God, that pain. Oh that pain. Chest, hurts. Aching. Roll shoulders. Clench. Clench again. Go away. God, oh God. Burning. It burns.

Quiet. Buzz. Buzz still there. Damn it, go away! BUZZ. Quiet.

"Lily?" Quiet. Voice is quiet. Room is quiet. Look around. He's gone.

She's gone. That girl. Another girl. What? Urgh, that buzzing!

That pain, chest, pain. God.

"Lily? Are you OK?"

Say something. Anything. Make pain go away. Face. Wet. Urgh, face is wet. Chest. Ow. Urgh. Ow.

"Sirius?" Good, well done. Said something. Good. Pain, ow. Not good. Still there. Won't go away. All over. Tummy hurts. Arms hurt.

"Was he- was he with...?" Toes. Fingers. Clench. Roll shoulders. Oh, God.

"Yeah. Sorry, Lils."

Chest, pain. Pain, chest. Tears, stinging. Face so wet. Oh, God. Oh, God.

"He's such an idiot." Not her voice. Throat hurts. Face so wet.

Oh, God.

"With another girl." Her voice. Argh! Ow, chest. "He was with another girl."

_28__th__ April_

She couldn't get out of bed. Partly because her head hurt too much, and her throat was too dry. But mainly because her chest hurt. That damn ache was still there, haunting her. She didn't think it would ever go away.

_29__th__ April_

She was hungry. Too much energy needed to eat though. Get out of bed, go downstairs, sit at table, decide what to eat... urgh, too much energy. Stay here. Just stay here. Cry. Cry some more. She would go eat later.

_30__th__ April_

Common room was near empty. It was lesson time. She had a free. Good. She needed a break. Teachers spoke too quickly, snapped too easily, huffed too loudly. She had homework, but she couldn't do it. Her chest hurt. Too much. She considered going to the hospital wing. But even the magical world surely didn't have a cure for heartache. Because that's what it was. She realised it now. That pain, that ache, that God-awful ache, it was her heart splitting and crumbling into tiny, smashable, foot-stampable pieces.

_1__st__ May_

"Lily?"

She was outside. It was warm for once, damn Britain for being so damn cold all the time. It was Spring for damn's, fuck's, sake. It should be fucking sunny and warm all the fucking time for fuck's sake.

"Lily?"

She looked up. Sirius. He was near to her. Not too close. As though she were a leper. Huh, clearly didn't want to get cried and snotted on like that other night. He was wary of her now.

"Yeah?" she answered, uncommitted.

"Just wanted to see how you are." He sat beside her, quite close actually. He wasn't hitting on her, not trying to get in her knickers. Though maybe he was, she didn't know anybloodything nowadays.

She shrugged. "Fine, really."

He eyed her slowly. "Hm. I would say that's a full pack of bullshit."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You look pretty rubbish, is all," he continued, an air of defiance about him.

Her lip quirked. Involuntarily. "Probably because I feel pretty rubbish."

He nodded. "He's hurt too, you know."

Like a slap in the face. "And why on Earth would he be feeling hurt right now? He had sex only a few nights ago! Must be feeling pretty good, surely?" She laughed, haughtily, shakily.

He nodded again. "Yeah, yeah he did. But he also knows, courtesy of me, that it was just about the worst thing he could have done. He knew it already, of course. Just needed me to give him a bit of a kick in the balls." He smiled a little. She did not smile. "He feels awful, Lils. I'm not sticking up for him - he behaved badly, really badly, we all know it." He paused. "He just wants to talk to you."

Her eyebrows knotted in confusion. And anger. "Then why has he not approached me himself?"

Sirius' mouth did a rather good impression of a guppy fish before biting his lip. He sighed. "Because he's an idiot. And a coward."

"No," she said, slowly, "no, it's because he will never leave his comfort zone. He will never go out of his way to make himself feel uncomfortable or bad. He'd rather just pretend it's not happening."

She was staring at the grass, her lips pursed. She could feel Sirius watching her. "You think about this much?" It was half sarcastic.

"All the time." No sarcasm there.

Sirius sighed. "Be the bigger person, Lils. Go talk to him. Your relationship-"

"It's not a relationship. He's made that very clear. He manipulates everything to make it his way. As long as he gets his way, it doesn't matter how many he hurts."

Another sigh. "Bloody hell, Evans, talk to him now or I swear to Merlin's hairy underarm shaver that I will punch you in the face." He paused. "Just as I did to James."

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**thanks for all your kind reviews so far!  
only one chapter to go.**


	6. Chapter Five

I wanted to get this story out of the way, so yay quick update!

As always, thank you thank you for your interest and kind words.

******There is a pretty lengthy a/n at the end of the chapter, _please don't skip over it_. Cheers.**

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Chapter_ Five._

_2__nd__ May_

"I don't think we should see each other anymore."

"What? You don't want that." Such a venomous look on his face. She realised this harshness, this unexpected viciousness in his eyes, was a mask. He was angry, only because he was hurt. She pulled herself up, because this understanding only forged on an anger in herself. Good that he hurt, now he felt the pain she had been feeling for so long.

That ache, damn it. Five days she'd been living with its permanent residency in her heart. Bloody. Go. Away.

They were in her dorm. Her ground, her territory. He'd wanted to meet in his dormitory, but she'd put her foot down. God, that had felt good.

She sat atop the bed while he was reduced to searching for a chair to sit on. She hadn't helped him. He sat there now, elbows on his knees, hands in the air as though they too were exasperated by the conversation, mimicking their master. His right eye had a strange purple tinge to it – a feature, she assumed, to have derived from Sirius' fist.

"No," she admitted, softly, though her eyes did not leave his glare, "But neither do I want to be with you."

His anger seemed to melt at that. His body crumpled, his hands tucking in over his head, shoulders falling forward. "But I really like you," he murmured to the ground. She heard it; she heard that pain trapped in his throat. She knew it all too well not to recognise it.

For while he had behaved badly, been selfish and disrespectful, she did not doubt his heart. He had one, she knew it and this, for once, was not her naivety taking lead. He really did have feelings for her, just a pitiful manner in which to show it. The way he would once hold her hand, kiss her cheek and look at her as though her eyes were windows. He used to seek her company, abandon plans so to be with her, run a mile to just spot her in corridors. He kissed her in a way she thought men only kissed in muggle films. Like if rain were pouring from the sky in the heaviest of thunderstorms the town had seen in the long-lasting drought and they could barely make each other out through the rain yet their silhouettes would melt together and their hair would be plastered to their faces and their lips would be salty but they wouldn't care. Every kiss was like that.

The problem, of course, was that one never discloses these sorts of details. The bad things, they are what are heard of, because they are of what a much-needed rant consists. The good things, well, they stay cherished in the sole mind of the owner.

No, she never doubted his feelings for her. She just needed more.

"I know, James," she said quietly.

"No, hear me out. I like you. I really, really like you. I don't want to stop seeing you –I – I, urgh, please Lily, please-"

He was staring at her now, watching her, his eyes flickering between her own.

"You slept with someone else, James."

He breathed out. Harshly. An exhausted laugh resting on his lips. "You're acting as if I cheated on you! I thought it was OK! We're not in a relationship!"

"We practically are!" Her voice was rising. "You've known all these months that I've wanted this to be a relationship, that I was treating it as such, so to me, yes, you did cheat."

"You can't cheat if there's no relationship," he said slowly, teeth gritted.

"And there's the problem! You can't say this isn't a relationship, James! It has every quality of one! You know that! I've been saying this right from the beginning!-"

"If you hated this so much, why didn't you- !"

"-Just because _you_ don't want it to be a relationship!-"

"-I never said this was a relationship so you can't claim it is now-!"

"-Did you ever even consider my opinion? Did you ever consider actually making this a relationship?!"

"No! I never considered it!" he near-shouted.

She lowered herself back onto the bed, only noticing then that she had lifted off it.

"Even when you knew that's what I wanted?" she said slowly, carefully.

"Yes," he replied. His jaw was clenched.

"Why not?" she asked after a pause.

"Because I didn't want it to be, and what we had was going so well the way it was-"

"Which was what? What exactly was it that we had?" She sounded forceful yet calm. Good; perfect. She had to stay in control.

He exhaled. "I dunno – we, we were having fun! We saw each other and had great sex-"

"So it was just about the sex to you?" Her voice cracked a little at this. Damn it. She knew this topic was shaky ground.

"No! No! Of course it was more than just sex, I've already told you that I like you!"

"You know that sex is not something I can just throw away easily-"

"I do know that! I know that! I never wanted to take advantage of you! I liked having sex with you but also just hanging out with you!-"

"Then why not ever make it a relationship?" She gulped. "When we had it all anyway, it was hardly a big step into a relationship-"

"Because I just can't, Lily," he snapped.

Her jaw tightened. "No. Give me a better answer than that. Why?"

"I don't have a better answer than that!" he said, throwing his arms wildly in the air, "That's all I've got! I just don't want to be in a relationship!"

"Why? So you've got an easy route out when you need it?" She was getting louder again.

"No-"

"So you can fuck anyone you want whenever you want?" Still louder. She needed to stay calm. But damn it, it was hard.

"No!-"

"Because you don't like me enough?!"

"Why does everything have to be in special categories with you!? Why can't we just _be_!? We don't need to label .THING! - "

"Why would it MATTER when it'd be exactly the SAME?"

"- Labels are so DAMN restricting!"

"But it's the SAME THING!"

"_It wouldn't be the same_!"

"WHY?"

"_I DON'T KNOW_!"

A long, long pause. She had no idea what to say to that. He wouldn't change his mind, because he had no reason to. He wouldn't change, he wouldn't change for her. He didn't want to be in a relationship, didn't want to love her, and that was it. She could do nothing.

So rather than speak, her shoulders slumped, her lips trembled, and she cried. She cried. Stood there, shaking, crying. She felt so helpless, vulnerable... and stupid. God, she felt stupid. She'd been used, abused... and had willingly, naively let it happen for months. She was so stupid. As though to remind her, her chest panged painfully.

But then hands were brushing her arms, holding her steady. These hands... they were so warm.

"Lily," he said, calm, collected, eyes wide. She was breathing fast, heavy, and the tears continued in full force. He was so warm. Wonderfully warm.

"Lily," he murmured, "I'm so sorry." His lips were close to hers now... so close. "I wasn't thinking the other night when... you know... I didn't realise I'd feel this way afterwards, so... guilty and-and bad. I felt awful, Lils, I still do. I feel so, so bad because I hurt you and I did wrong and you are so good and so kind and innocent and pretty and no one should ever hurt you, ever. But I did, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." His hands were in her hair, smoothing. Fingers on her cheek, caressing. Soft and gentle, sweet and loving. "Please, please let's give this another go, Lils. Another shot. We're good together, you and me, eh?"

Together. Yes, together, they were together. They should be together. They were _so good_ together.

He cupped her chin, stroked her cheek. He smiled that adorable lopsided smile.

"Can we pretend this never happened? All of this-this messed up stuff?" He brushed her hair out from her eyes. "Hm?"

He had beautiful eyes. They lit up like lanterns when he laughed. They glittered in dim light. Now, they were shining, shining for her, urging her, wanting her.

She knew she loved him, that was not the issue.

So she sniffed, gulped. His warm, warm hands wiped the tears from under her eyes, and he smiled, so softly. "OK," she breathed.

They kissed then. Gentle butterfly kisses turning more urgent. He lowered her onto the bed, hand carefully guiding her lower back, and kissed her neck, her chest.

Her chest. It ached - oh yes it will ache. The pain that is unrequited love. But she will stay with him, for loving is easier than leaving. Her chest will pound on her lungs. Her brain will seize into a puddle of ashes. Her limbs will burn with the stress of it. That burning, paining ache will consume her like a disease. But she will carry on, ignoring and pretending. She will see his initial gaze as a look of care, of passion. She will see his careful thrusts as a desire to meet her needs, a desire to not hurt her. She will see his collapse onto her as desperation to be closer, a part of. She will see his kisses as a lovers guarantee, his lovemaking as a future guarantee. She will keep going; she will love him and make love to him.

For you see, sex helps her to forget that he does not love her.

_END_

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**A/N**

So there we go. Thank you for sticking with this story – and more thanks for alerting or favouriting or (best of all) reviewing. This really hasn't been the easiest story to write... or upload.

I'm sure some of you (as you already have been) will be asking for more reasons as to why James refuses to be in a relationship. You want me to say he had a damaging previous relationship? His mother ruined his outlook on monogamy when she had an affair ending in divorce? Well, sure, you take from it what you want, but the problem is that I can't give you an answer because I don't know the answer. Even James doesn't know. Frustrating, isn't it?

And why does Lily forgive and concede to him so easily? Well, I know the answer to that: she loves him. Why does she love him? Because there are many a wonderful thing to James, things that don't make it to paper because this is Lily's POV and the good things get stored into happy little places inside her, for her only. Maybe she will eventually leave him, maybe he will change... I don't want to decide, because I can't decide which is more likely. I know which one I'd prefer of course, but that's not the same thing. I'd love to know how you would continue the story.

I'm sounding pretty pompous right now, but I do actually have experience in these emotions. Because this story is actually a truthfully condensed version of a 'relationship' I have had with someone over the last year. He was loveable with buttloads of selfish, while I was in-love with buttloads of idiocy. He thought we weren't in a relationship, I thought we should be. He ignored and cheated, and I forgave him every time. He never loved me, but I loved him so hard. We both made mistakes, as did _both_ James and Lily here.

But now that it's (finally) over and what with reading and writing being my vice, I took to getting it all out under cover as Lily and James (my favourite pairing!). I genuinely thought it would be an interesting angle of the couple (considering it's usually James pining over Lily). Also, to be perfectly honest and dramatic, unrequited love really is so, so physically and emotionally painful and though it's difficult to do it justice in words (as I've recently learnt), I feel much better for having offloaded this onto a thankfully anonymous website. (Even so, I won't be continuing or adapting this story further... I've reached my limit to be honest.) I'm sorry that the story offended/upset some, but I needed to give my story, for me.

(Reading over this it looks a tad like I'm seeking advice/reassurance from you... I'm not, really really not. I just have a habit of explaining myself thoroughly.)

Anyway, enough dramatics. Long and short is: cheers for reading, you lovely people. I've taken 'write what you know' very literally. Love is an assortment of wonderful things, but it is not logical, rational or kind (How deep is that?).


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